Stay
by Sid Crowley
Summary: Her last boyfriend refused to be seen with her when she bought tampons.


Bruce knocks on Darcy's apartment door a few times, but there's no answer. He's not surprised, which is why he made sure he already had his keys in his hand. He shifts the keys around until he finds the one he wants and slides it into the lock, turning it and the handle and letting himself in. It's been three months since they exchanged keys and this is only the second time he's ever used it. The first time was when Darcy had gone out with Jane and spent the night getting drunk before remembering her keys were on her dresser, not in her handbag with her phone.

He shuts the door behind him, and glances around. The apartment is messy, as usual, but quiet, and that in and of itself lets Bruce know something is direly wrong. He doesn't see Darcy, though the door to the bedroom is slightly open, so he sets his grocery bag down on the coffee table. He pushes the bedroom door hard enough for it to open and reveal a very pitiful looking Darcy, curled up in the fetal position on her bed.

Her feet are bare, and Bruce grins slightly as he steps forward and sees the chipped bright orange nail polish on her toes that she still hasn't taken off. She's wearing her favorite pair of old green plaid pajama pants and a green t-shirt, her eyes are closed, and despite the fact her hair looks like it hasn't seen a hairbrush in a week, she's still the best thing he's seen in a long, long time.

He sits down on the edge of the bed next to her, and the pressure shift causes her eyes to instantaneously open.

"Bruce!" She squawks, jumping slightly. He reaches out and runs a hand down her arm.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" He asks, sympathetically. He can't help but notice how absolutely horror-stricken she looks at his presence, though he feels a little more confused than offended.

"Uh. I'm fine." She says, and it's so fake and forced-casual, Bruce chuckles.

"Fine, huh?" He challenges and Darcy nods.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Remember the text you sent me this morning saying you couldn't make our date tonight because you're sick?" He asks, and Darcy's face falls and she looks like she wants to beat her head against a wall for a while.

"Oh, that. I'm-" Darcy stops, as she winces in pain and presses a hand to her abdomen, "fine." She repeats, "Really."

"Then why did you send me the text?" He asks, knowing he's caught her in a lie, one way or another.

"Uh, Jane invited me to a party tonight. I really wanted to go but we had a date, so I told you I was sick and I'm not. Sorry." She apologizes and it's all such a lie Bruce wants to laugh. Darcy knows she wouldn't have to lie about hanging out with her friends and they both know it. He's never tried to make her feel guilty for wanting to spend time with other people.

"Liar." Bruce accuses gently.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." She apologizes again with forced sadness.

"No, you're lying about the party." He clarifies and Darcy gaps at him before cringing again.

"Why would I lie about lying?" She asks, and her hand still hasn't moved from it's previous location on her abdomen. It only takes a second for him to snap the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Because," He says, feeling slightly smug at his own deductive reasoning, "You're not sick, nor are you going to a party. You're having period cramps, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." She says, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Why would you even say that?"

"Because your hand is about four inches too low to be considered holding your stomach, which is here," He says, gently poking her in the stomach a few inches above her hand, "There's no bottle of Pepto around anywhere, or Nyquil, both of which you drink like water when you feel under the weather. You are in pain though, I can see that. And you're acting shifty around me, which is really, really weird. Altogether, I'm gonna guess you're having cramps and you're expecting me to be disgusted and leave."

"I shoulda know better than to start dating a genius." She laments, half laughing, half-groaning; turning her face into her pillow and closing her eyes.

"Yeah, basically." He agrees, and she blindly swats at him, hitting him on the knee. He grabs her hand before she takes it back and holds it. A beat passes.

"I'm still here. You noticed that, right?" He asks, and she pops one eye open.

"It's okay. I know it's disgusting. You can go." She says, sounding defeated.

"Not what I meant."

"What?" She says, turning to look at him.

"Not leaving. I'd stay if you had a cold or the flu."

"Not the same."

"Close enough." He shrugs, because, really, it is.

"Most guys would be freaked out, you know." She says, almost disbelieving, but he doesn't give an inch.

"I'm not most guys."

"My last boyfriend refused to be seen with me when I bought tampons."

"I'd buy them for you."

"It's gross."

"It's biology."

"I'm sorry I canceled our date for something so stupid." She apologizes and he tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Not stupid. Just life." He corrects, leaning down to give her a brief kiss."Have you taken anything?"

"Some ibuprofen a while ago but it's not helping." He picks up the small bottle off of the night stand and reads the label.

"How many did you take?"

"Just... a couple." She says, pressing her hand to her abdomen again.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

He picks up the bag he left on the coffee table and goes into the kitchen. He unpacks the bag he brought with him, sticking the cans of soup in the cupboard, putting the strawberries he knows she loves in the fridge and leaving the bag of gummi bears on the counter, knowing she'll want them later. He pours a glass of water and goes back into the bedroom.

"Hey," he says, prompting her to open her eyes, "Sit up for a second."

She gingerly moves to comply with his request and he shakes out a couple more pills from the bottle. He hands them to her with the glass. "It'll be safe for you to take a couple more. See if they help. If they don't, I'll run down to the corner store and see if they have something stronger."

Darcy's quiet compliance is unnerving and Bruce can't wait until she's her normal, loud, hyperactive self again.

"You're the best boyfriend ever, you know that, right?" She says softly, handing him the glass back and lying back down.

"Yeah, we'll just ignore the whole Other Guy thing. Might ruin that idea." He teases, and she gives him a small grin.

"I like that you can joke about him now." She says, and her honesty startles Bruce, just a little. "You used to be so... I don't know, you just never mentioned him at all, changed the subject when someone else did. Now you bring him up on your own, crack jokes. It's good."

"Blame Tony." He says, and honestly, it's mostly true. Everything else aside, he's pretty sure he'd be back in Kolkatta if not for Tony. He's somehow kept Bruce around for over a year since the Chitauri, much to, what he believes, is everyone's amazement. He's pretty sure there were bets on how long he'd last before he ran again. He's also pretty sure Steve's the one who ended them all when he found out.

"'Thank him' is more like it." She corrects and Bruce laughs.

"I'd love to see the look on his face." He moves to the bathroom and starts digging around the cupboards.

If Darcy cancelled their date tonight and it's only 11am, that means she's anticipating deal with this for hours. If she knows what to expect, she's dealt with this before and if she's dealt with cramps like this before she must have- aha!

Heating pad.

He comes back in the bedroom and sets it up, plugging it in and setting the temperature. He hands it to her and chuckles at the groan of relief she gives at the contact on the pad on her sore muscles. It's not even warm yet, and he knows she's playing it up, but she's still adorable and he still feels bad there's not more he can do. He pulls the blanket at the foot of the bed up to cover her bare feet.

He walks around the bed and curls up behind her, putting a hand over hers on the heating pad.

"Hurts." She almost-whispers, and he feels his chest ache in sympathy. He hates this.

"Are they always this bad?" He asks, quietly.

"No." She answers, "Usually, just a couple pills fix it."

"What can I do?"

"Stay."

"Okay." He says, "Try and sleep and we'll see if you feel better when you wake up. Maybe eat something if you feel like it."

She turns, carefully, so they're facing one another and she puts a hand on his cheek. "You're too sweet." She says, and her careful tone reflects all of the almost-break ups they've had and all the stupid reasons they've come up with to break up they've both learned to move past or ignore. Age differences, personality differences, all of it.

"You're too adorable." He retorts, and he knows they're one of those mushy-couples he used to roll his eyes at, but it's Darcy, so fuck it. He's happy.

"I love you." He states, it amazes him how easy it is to tell her that, having not said it to anyone since Betty.

"I love you, too." She answers, curling up to his chest. She feels amazing against him, and he knows in his bones he'd do anything she asked to make her happy. A moment passes in silence before he hears her speak again, so quiet he almost missed it.

"Best boyfriend ever."


End file.
